


A Promise

by Jakkiisukaru



Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22162351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakkiisukaru/pseuds/Jakkiisukaru
Summary: Hello, my name is Lexi, and I want to tell you my story. It revolves around a certain blond and how I never thought I'd see him again. Most importantly, it's a story about how I died, but to explain things better, we will have to go back to the beginning. Back to when things were more simple and all I cared about was my sixteenth birthday. Back to the year 1980. (Paul x OC)
Relationships: Paul (Lost Boys)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue: Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, guys, it's not like I should take up another story- I'm aware, but this one came to me straight out of the blue. Like a semi-truck coming in too hot and before I knew it the writing bug ran me over. I've always wanted to write a Paul x OC story, though the idea was never clear. I still hope you enjoy it, though I don't know if this idea has been done before when considering just how many fanfics exist in this fandom. To be honest, I'm not sure where it'll lead us just yet either so I'm coming along for the ride

### Prologue: Memories

"The truth is I don't want things to change, but I know that's naive of me. It's just not how life works. Life will be over before you know it and It's moving—always moving, whether you like it or not. And yeah, sometimes it's painful, and sometimes it's sad, but sometimes it's surprising. No matter the mistakes we learn from them, we grow. And when life hurts you, because it will, remember the hurt. The hurt is good. The hurt will remind you of everyone you have met and loved. They are all apart of your story. Your triumphs, your defeats, your past, and your memories."

Hello, my name is Lexi, and I want to tell you my story. It revolves around a certain blond and how I never thought I'd see him again. Most importantly, it's a story about how I died, but to explain things better, we will have to go back to the beginning. Back to when things were more simple, and all I cared about was my sixteen birthday.

Back to the year 1980.

"Hey, no fair! You know I'm too short to reach!" I huffed at the blond snickering at me, his arms raised above his head in amusement. His skateboard was beyond my reach even while hopping on my toes. "C'mon, just give it to me already. You said I could ride it."

He stopped laughing and gave me a smug look. "Why do you always want to ride my board anyway?" To me, that was a stupid question. He knew why from all my rants in the past. I made a point to show that by crossing my arms while staring at him pointedly. This earned me a hand in my hair and a skateboard thrown at my feet.

"Alright, but your parents are way too strict. They need to chill on the safety rules, ya know?"

"Yeah, believe me. I know all too well." Even though he had a point, I didn't linger on the topic. I quickly dashed off with the skateboard, gliding along the empty street before Paul could say anymore.

I met Paul years ago and despite our age differences he never treated me that differently. My parents, on the other hand, well, they didn't like him. In their eyes, he was a trouble maker. Someone they felt would eventually influence their little baby to do big bad things. In a sense, they were right, but none of us could see the future and I didn't care.

Paul was never allowed at my house, and I was not allowed to see him. Though that never stopped me from sneaking off with the blond. Our friendship was important to me. Plus, I might have had a little kid crush on the older teen, but I would never admit it.

Our favorite spot was the park. It became our own little skating grounds, and a lot of fond memories were made here. Even years later, I would visit it just to sit there and think. My thoughts lingering on the fun I shared with him. I missed the old days a lot. When things were simple, and the world seemed smaller.

The day Paul went missing was on my sixteenth birthday. I hadn't seen him all day since being cooped up in my house. Don't get it wrong, the party itself was fun. Loads of cake and presents. Even some friends from school came over to visit, but I didn't see Paul till later that night when I heard tapping at my window.

His big grin welcomed me when I pulled back the curtains. Seeing him at my window wasn't new, but it wasn't something that occurred often. However, I didn't think much about it at the time. How could I when the blond lifted a poorly wrapped skateboard for me to see? The lazy yellow bow daring to fly off in the night breeze.

Quickly I opened my window to stick half my body outside. "Paul!" I quietly screamed with enthusiasm. "You did not buy me a skateboard." My words filled with disbelief despite the gift being visible.

"Me? Buy you a skateboard? You think I'm made of money, Chica?" I gave him a glare, which he chuckled at before handing over the present. With my bedroom light landing on it more clearly, I could see it was his old board. The little wear and tear from use evident along the frame. The old paint design was fading away in some places, although the wheels looked new.

I must have been silent for too long because Paul decided to speak up. "I mean, if you don't want it I could just take it—"

"—No, no." I quickly pulled the board to my chest and smiled at him brightly. "Thank you, Paul. Really." I've always wanted a skateboard, but my parents kept denying me one. They are too dangerous. You may fall. What if you bust your head open, huh? Being the arguments they would often bring up. I'm half certain they thought skateboarding to be a gateway to drugs or something.

I sat the board down by my window and leaned out further, giving my longest friend a big hug. Despite how everyone treated him as some stoner kid with no future, I cared deeply for him. I didn't expect a gift from Paul, never did, so it was honestly nice to receive one. Even if it was a handy down skateboard.

That's when I noticed he had a backpack on and that his guitar case sat next to his feet.

Leaning back I gave Paul a questionable look. "Heading over to a friend's house?" It wasn't unusual for him to crash out at places. Especially if he and his dad had another fight.

"You can kinda say that, yeah." his gaze didn't reach mine which troubled me more.

"Paul," I placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to open up to me. Normally we told each other everything so seeing him so distant now was worrisome. "What's going on?"

When he looked up at me, I could see just how tired he was. "I'm heading out of town." I stared at him, not sure what to say. "I just— I wanted to see you one last time, ya' know? Give you a gift before leaving."

His words slowly sinking in before realization hit me hard. "Wait, you're not planning on coming back, are you?"

"No, Chica, I'm not." A lot of emotions ran through me at that point. I felt angry at him for choosing to up and leave, but overall I felt sad. I never imagined him leaving. My immature mind thinking he would always be around. That he would always be someone I could hang out with.

"Where will you even go?" My voice was softer now. Not just because we needed to be quiet, but because I didn't want to cry.

Paul sighed. "I don't know yet." Then he stepped forward this time and held me close, his crazy blond hair covering my view of the backyard. It helped hide the tears beginning to streak down my cheeks. He smelled clean like he just took a shower and I closed my eyes, taking in this memory as my arms circled his shoulders.

Paul wanted to be many things. He wanted to be a well-known skateboarder. To blow everyone out of the water during competitions and become the next big record-breaker. He wanted to be a lead guitarist in a rock band just like Motley Crue. To throw himself off into the crowd and have a girl on both arms. Paul wanted to be in the spotlight one way or another, but after that night, no one knew him. He just simply disappeared.

Seven years have passed since then, and I still think about him occasionally, but life always gets in the way. I had to worry about graduating from high school and where to enroll in a college. Friends came and went over the years, none of which made an impression on me as much as Paul did. Yet that wasn't too surprising since I never forgot about him. I often wondered if he ever found a place where he truly belonged.

It was the fall of nineteen-eighty-seven when I finally left my home town. The decision to move to a college away from where I grew up felt right. Especially when I wanted a fresh start in a new place where people didn't know me as some outcast. I didn't act like most girls my age and socializing with others had been difficult.

Of course, I never expected that this would be the last time I would see my parents face to face. Yes, they have always been controlling, but it was out of concern for my wellbeing. No matter how I was brought up, I still had a loving relationship with my family. Even now, I wish I could have hugged them one more time instead of running off in a hurry to catch my bus. Yet at that point, I didn't know what was going to happen. Life has that funny way of working, huh? Life is always moving, whether you like it or not, and I was ready to start mine.

To find where I belonged.


	2. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short, although the length of the chapters may grow as we progress further. I'm not sure how frequent the updates will be since I'm mainly focusing on "Lost Between the Pages", but I'll do my best.

### Chapter One: Doubt

"A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new."

###### 

"Yes, mom. I'm telling you it will be okay." I rested the phone against my ear as my fingers coiled the cord subconsciously.

Only a week has passed since hauling myself all the way down to Santa Carla. Finding the University and unpacking my bags at the dorm was easy. Getting along with my roommate has been a little challenging. Yet, it was my mother's persistent checking in on me that about had me at wits' end.

I pinched my nose as she asked the same question for the fifth time this week. "After winter break," I reassured before huffing out a chuckle. "If you can even consider it winter here." It rarely dropped below forty degrees. "But yes, that's when my course starts, I promise."

The door swung open next to me, and I about jumped, not expecting the sudden presence of someone else since most have left for the holidays. Strangely, without meaning to, I had done the opposite.

The tone in my mother's voice drew me back as I watched the guy tap at a non-existent watch, telling me to hurry up. I turned my back to him and cradled the phone closer.

"No—I mean, yes, I'm still here. But I gotta go, mom. Someone else needs the phone." I paused as she hurriedly spoke. "Mhm, I love you too and tell dad the same. Bye."

I pushed down on the receiver and handed the phone to the guy. He took it with a shrug and started punching in numbers.

"New girl, huh?" My hand paused on the doorknob. I didn't expect him to say anything. "Let me guess, worried parents?" I glanced at him and considered responding before he suddenly spoke up again. Whoever he had called must have picked up. I took that opportunity to leave.

Santa Carla was okay for a town that's practically dead during winter. The highlight, other than it being a college town, was the oceanic theme park and boardwalk. Outside of those two things, the place wasn't much different from home. It has its shopping centers, city parks, theaters, bars, you name it. The boardwalk itself included mini-golf, arcade games, and bowling. Even the abundance of homeless but that was expected for any place gathering enough attention.

Though crowds were less of an issue than what I assume the summer would be, it was still moderately full thanks to being a college town. I think the students are grateful for that too. For those still lingering around and not at home with family anyway. Like my roommate and the guy in the hallway.

Speaking of my roommate, she wanted to go out tonight. Something about showing me around the place: deep down inside, I wanted to say no. That I would rather hold myself up in our room to get a head start on reading my textbook. Instead, I said yes, because I wanted to make a good impression. After all, I needed to break old habits. Though I could tell just from appearances alone, she and I wouldn't be friends if I was my old self.

Ashley is the definition of a cheerleader. She probably got straight A's and dated a few jocks in her time. Did she party? Most likely. I could imagine her and her click of gal pals luring men to bed with ease. A simple giggle and fluttering eyelashes and down went the sorry bastards.

I, on the other hand, am the quiet one. I'm often mistaken for the nerdy girl with my glasses and light scattering freckles. I wore sweaters and waist-high denim jeans with sneakers instead of skirts and tube tops. Plus, I'm too short to be a long-legged cheerleader, nor have I ever wanted to be one.

Outside of looks and assumptions, I was much more than that, and I'd like to assume Ashley is too. Did I enjoy reading and studying up on things that interested me? Most definitely. But I also enjoy climbing high places to stargaze. I like binge-watching horror movies and shredding air guitar to rock-n-roll. But most importantly, I love to grind and slide my skateboard at parks when I'm not just cruising down a sidewalk, letting the wind rush by me.

Yes, I still have a skateboard. Not the one Paul gave me, sadly, since I accidentally snapped it before even turning eighteen. That didn't stop me from skating. I don't think anything will.

I think I was in the dorm room for five minutes before Ashley came in, enthusiasm appearing to roll off her in waves. Maybe she had a date, and I was in the clear? Or perhaps I was trying to be too optimistic because the moment I thought that, Ashley twirled around and threw my jacket at me.

"C'mon, the theater is doing a reshowing of Dirty Dancing this week." Her hands overlapped my own even before I could get my jacket on completely. "I wanna go see it again!"

"Wait," I tried to slow her roll. "I don't even have money for a ticket."

Ashley shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it. Besides," she leaned in close to me as if the hallways weren't empty. "I have a way of sneaking in." If I wanted to sneak into a movie, it would be for Nightmare on Elm Street. Not for a drama romance flick. No hard feelings towards Patrick Swayze, of course. I mean, that man knows how to pull off a tight outfit.

I worked on the last button on my denim jacket as we made our way down the stairs, our shoes scuffling along the tile floor when we reached the bottom. "I thought you were going to show me around town, not take me on a date." I joked.

Ashley laughed a little while giving me a coy glance. "I will, eventually. For now, I want you to meet some of my friends. Ya know, just hang out before Spring Semester starts."

"Alright." I tried not to mumble as we walked out the doors, the late afternoon air greeting us instantly. The cool breeze tossing my blonde hair as a small shiver raked up my spine. "It's going to be chilly tonight."

"I know, huh? Good thing we'll be indoors since the drive-thru's closed during the winter months." Ashley glanced my way again as we rounded a corner. "Have you ever seen Dirty Dancing before?"

"Yeah, back when it premiered in August." Without my parent's knowledge since they didn't approve of the movie. What with the implication that came from just glancing at the poster art.

..  
..

For the most part, I felt like the equivalent of a third-wheel. If one could multiply it and still have a name for it. Don't get it wrong, they were friendly— downright welcoming even, but I didn't know their inside jokes or how they thought or felt on certain topics. I simply didn't fit in. Especially when a good portion of Ashley's friends, including her, had a guy to lean on. That secret way of getting into the movie theater had to do with her boyfriend working there. While I, well, I had Patrick Swayze to look at, but even he had his Baby.

You can pretty much guess that I was happy to be heading home when the movie ended. That was before Ashley started leading me in the opposite direction of campus.

"Nights still young," she had said to me before wrapping an arm around her boyfriend's bicep. "C'mon, let's hit up a bar or something."

And now I'm sitting at one of those 'u' shaped booths and completely stuck between Ashley and her best friend, Jenny. The level of unease rising by the minute. The only thing calming my nerves was the alcoholic drink nestled between my hands.

I guess old habits are hard to break after all.

"So, Lexi," Jenny spoke up next to me, her full lips pulling into a smile. "What are you planning to major in?"

I paused from taking another sip. "Oh, um, basically criminology. Or, I mean, Criminal Justice."

Jenny lifted a brow. "You wanna be a cop or something?"

I laughed a little at that. "Not exactly no. More like a CSI stuff." The blank expression on her face told me she didn't know what I meant, and I didn't blame her for that. Forensic work was just now starting to really kick-off in the US. This year alone introducing DNA profiling, and I wanted to know more. I wanted to be right on the front line when we make significant changes to the system.

One of the guys, Alex, was his name, I think, looked around Jenny. "CSI, huh? I wouldn't think crime scene investigations would be up your alley. You kind of pegged me as someone going into fine arts and literature."

At that explanation, Jenny seemed to perk up again. "Oh, I get it! So like a detective?" I laughed a little as I sat my drink down, though my fingers never left the glass.

"Yeah, something like that." I didn't feel like explaining to her that I want to study homicide cases, collect evidence from gruesome scenes, and learn how serial killers think psychologically. I think it would have ruined their buzz if I did.

"Hey," I spoke up again while looking out toward the floor. "I need to use the restroom." I didn't really, but a step outside might help ease my nerves more. Being surrounded by crowds for this long was getting at me.

"Oh, just a sec'." I waited for Alex and Jenny to move before scooting out of the booth. I noticed they all dived back into a conversation and took that opportunity to make it to the door.

The night air felt good. Chilly, but good. I leaned my back against the wall, my head angling up to peer at the cloudy dark sky. Even if there were stars out, the town lights would have hidden them away — one of the things I miss about home.

Without looking, I fished out a somewhat crumpled pack of cigarettes and put one to my lips before patting down for my lighter. Cursing, I broke my sad excuse of cloud gazing as I kept patting.

"Forgot your lighter?" A male voice spoke up to my left.

Jerking my head in that direction I was met by a tall figure dressed in all black. If it wasn't for a street post, I'm sure he would have blended in with the shadows. When did he even get there?

"Here," he spoke up again, a gloved hand lifting as his thumb flipped a zippo. The flame warming my cheeks as I tilt forward.

Leaning back, I breathed out a cloud of smoke. "Thanks."

"No problem." The mysterious man said before lighting his own cigarette, our clouds intermingling before drifting off. The moment of silence between us welcoming as I looked past the roof, thinking that was the end of our small talk. I was mistaken.

"Let me guess," His voice filled in the silence. "Not fond of crowds?" It seemed like a lot of people were guessing things about me lately.

I offered a noncommittal shrug. "You could say that." I took another hit of nicotine. "What about you? You out here for a smoke break?" It wasn't unusual for others to smoke inside most bars, but maybe he too just wanted some fresh air.

I caught sight of his lips twitching upward a little. "You could say that." He threw my words right back at me with humor in his tone.

"David!" Another male's voice called out nearby, down along the alleyway beside the bar. The man next to me let out a tired sigh before leaning around the corner.

"What is it this time?" the man now known as David shouted back, pushing off the wall while taking another hit of his cig. "I swear if you two fucked up again—" he paused, glancing at me. "—Excuse me." Then he rounded the corner and disappeared.

That was odd. The guy didn't need to excuse himself as if our conversation held some significant meaning. Whatever. I shrugged off the weird encounter and rubbed the bud along the wall, snuffing out the flames before throwing it away in the nearby trashcan.

I was one shoe inside the threshold when I heard a familiar laugh. It was loud, high spirited, and instantly rung a bell with me. Despite seven-years deluding my memories, it couldn't deceive that one. No, I've heard that laugh too many times when I had wiped out during a trick or when I made up ridiculous stories for why weed would rule the world one day.

It was Paul's laugh. It had to be.

Hastily I ran over to the alley's mouth and strained to look past the dumpsters and shadows. The glow from the backdoor the only light source between me and the alleyway. I caught a glimmer of blond streaks as the ray of light hit it, and I subconsciously took a step forward. Another boast of laughter bounced off the walls, mingling with others as the sounds of shoes scuffed along the ground. It drew me in further, my body becoming partially consumed by shadows at this point.

Then I saw his profile as he stumbled backward into sight, a gloved hand holding tightly to his jacket. It looked like he was about to get a beating from that David guy, but my gaze was set in place. I couldn't believe it. It was really him. There was no mistaking that lion mane of blond hair, that scruff, his body language, his poor sense of style. My lips parted and his name was just about to fly off my tongue when I felt an arm loop into my own and quickly pull me away.

"Lexi! There you are." It was Ashley, and she beamed at me with red cheeks. "C'mon, the guys are walking us home."

"Wait a minute." I snaked my arm free to turn back to the alleyway, but it was greeted with dead silence. I couldn't see any dancing shadows along the wall or make out any figures.

"What is it?" Ashley peered around me, giggling as she leaned her weight against my side. Damn, how much did she drink?

I shook my head. "Its nothing, nevermind." Disappointment weighed heavily in my words. With a huff, I placed a steadying arm around the girl's shoulders, giving her my attention. "How are you even standing up right now?"

Ashley giggled again. "Am I or are you holdin' me?" her head then popped up suddenly, barely avoiding knocking me in the nose. "We gotta hurry!" I sincerely doubt her friends would just up and leave, but then again, I hardly know them.

"Alright, alright—hey, watch them heels." I wince, my feet taking the brunt impact as Ashley stumbled beside me, officially turning away from the alley.

Maybe I was just being hopeful. Perhaps it was just someone who looked similar to my old friend. The likely hood of a runaway surviving on the streets for this long is extremely low, especially during the winter months. And besides that, he looked like the day he left — not a single year older, which is impossible. He should look nearly thirty, what with a decade about to pass.

Maybe it wasn't Paul, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Consider leaving comments and kudos if you like it so far! I read and respond to them all.


End file.
